E's Birth Story

I'm writing this a couple months post-partum, but I figured it would be best to date it on her birthdate.

E was due Monday, November 3rd. My last day of work was Friday, October 30th. I was planning on working until I went into labor, but I was having trouble getting down on the floor with the kiddos, and then getting back up again. I was ENORMOUS!

On Monday the 3rd, I had a doctor's appointment with Adria, one of the midwives. She swept my membrane. It's a simple (but painful) little procedure where they put their finger in between the cervix and the amniotic sac and do a little swipe. That usually helps labor start.

I thought for sure I would have the baby on election day, or at least be in labor. It's one of my favorite days of the year, so I figured the baby would come just in time for me to miss out on watching the election returns. At one point, I thought my water had broken. I called the answering service for the doctor. Dr. Gulick was on call. She informed me that it was probably just my mucous plug. I didn't have quite enough wetness for it to be my water.

I didn't want to attend the HOA board meeting the next day, so I was hoping she would come before that. She waited. I was pissed. I angrily took minutes, cursing the child. When I got home from the board meeting, I hung out on the couch watching TV with Paul. At around 10pm, I went into the kitchen to get something to drink. That's when I felt my first contraction. I didn't want to say anything. I wasn't even positive that it was a contraction. I'd had a few a couple weeks before after I tripped on the sidewalk at work and fell, but this one was different. The others felt more like bad gas. This one was a little lower, a little stronger, a little longer, and a little less painful. It felt like a warm wave of pressure in my pelvis. I tried not to think about it and went back to the couch, watching some cool program on PBS about these two guys who retraced Marco Polo's trek through China.

At 10:15-ish, I had another contraction. I looked at Paul, but kept silent.

At 10:30, another contraction. I walked to the bathroom and back.

At 10:45-ish, another contraction. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.

At around 11, I had another contraction. I looked at Paul and said "Honey, I think I'm in labor."

We took a walk down the street and back, to make sure that I really was in labor. I smelled Pumkin Pie. Paul did not. I'm still trying to find another person who smelled pumpkin pie while they were in labor, because I'm sure it was a side-effect. I have not been successful.

At midnight, I called the answering service for the doctors, and Molly was on call. She told me in a very tired voice that it was too early to go to the hospital. I said "I know, I just wanted to let you know that it's started."

"OK, call back when contractions are five minutes apart."

I ate some leftover Thai food and tried to get some sleep.

When contractions were 6 minutes apart, I took a shower. When I got out, they were 5 minutes apart. An hour later, we called Molly. It was around 2 or 3AM.

"What are your plans for pain?" she asked.

"The whirlpool tub, breathing, walking, you know, all that natural stuff," I replied, certain that I would never cave to the epidural.

"Then you can stay at home until you feel you need to come to the hospital," she replied. She then told me that she would call them to let them know that I would be coming sometime that day.

We hung out at home until 6am, when contractions were coming two minutes apart. I was certain the baby would be born by 9am.

We arrived at the hospital at 6:15, where we were met by our nurse, Mary. She strapped me to the fetal monitor. My contractions had slowed to 5 minutes apart. I'm glad we waited before going to the hospital.
Because I had tested positive for group B Strep, I had to receive IV antibiotics every 4 hours. It hurt like a bitch going in. On the plus side, it took my mind off the contractions.

At 9:15, I went to the bathroom. Paul was with me. When I stood up from the toilet, Paul said "Honey, you're still peeing." I looked down and realized that my water broke. And then I realized just how stupid I was on election night when I thought my water broke. There is a big difference in the amount of fluid. I stood there, watching it pour out of me. Paul said "Shouldn't you be standing over the toilet so that it doesn't get all over the floor?"

"No, Mary has to see it. She has to make sure it's clear and doesn't smell bad."

"We could tell her that."

Mary was very nice. She said it was no problem and wiped everything up. Mary was an angel.

I was positive that the baby would be born by noon.

This is where things get a little fuzzy and Paul has to correct me on vital facts. Here is what I remember:

Mary had to take her lunch break. Before doing so, she checked my cervix, I was 5 centemeters and 100% effaced. I was crushed. I thought for sure I was farther along than that. Suddenly, I was worried that the baby wouldn't come until the next morning.

When the break nurse gave me my dose of antibiotics for the group b strep, she was not as nice as Mary. It hurt like a bitch and I yelled at her.

When Mary came back, things started to get more difficult. I could no longer breathe through the contractions on my own. I needed Paul to coach me. I sat on a therapy ball, with Paul on the bed, making me breathe the annoying heeee, heee, hoooo breaths that we learned in the childbirth class that I said I would never use. Little did I know that they were the perfect thing for that time.

I was very tired and ready to call Uncle for an epidural. I kept telling Paul that I was very tired and I just wanted to take a nap. I never spoke the "E" word. I simply wanted someone to know what I meant and put it in me before I could refuse it. Instead, Mary told me that we had options, and she told me what they were. I then said that first I had to go back to the jetted tub because that was our plan.

It took forever to get into the tub. Because there is just one on the maternity ward, and someone was in it when I said I wanted to use it, I not only had to wait for the person to be done with it, but I also had to wait for them to clean it out. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we were able to make our way down to the tub room.

When we got there, I had to pee so badly, that I couldn't hold it any longer and I peed all over the floor. Thankfully, it was tile. I then apologized to Paul a million times because I peed on his shoes. He just laughed. Little did I know that this was the beginning of the transition phase. Boy did it suck. You pretty much go from 7 to 10 centemeters in about an hour, and you lose all sense of sanity.

I screamed and cried and insisted that Paul take me home. I tried to divorce him. I cried for my mommy. I dropped the f bomb a million times. I told the entire hospital staff that I changed my mind and no longer wanted to have a baby. "I'm done! Take me home, now!" I said. It was pretty awful. A contraction would start before the last one would finish. There was no breathing exercise taught in class that could help me with this, and Mary knew it. She told Paul "just do whatever it takes to get her through this -- whatever she needs."

When transition was over, I felt this enormous desire to push, so I did. When I did, I screamed very loudly. Mary came in to the room and asked me if I felt the need to push. I told her "Feel it? I'm doing it!" She said it was time to go back our room for delivery. She got a wheelchair and another nurse to help. I got out of the tub and was ready to go, and they insisted on putting my hospital gown on me and covering me with sheets to go back down the hall.

"I don't care if I'm naked," I said.

"No, but somebody else might," the other nurse replied.

When we got back to the hospital room, I immediately tore the gown off, saying, "I don't want anything touching me!" and I crawled onto the bed, grabbing onto the back and squatting to push. I thought that would work for me, but I was so tired, I kept collapsing and sitting down.

The nurses convinced me that I should be on my back. I obliged, even though I had this huge mental block about delivering on my back. It made no sense to me, since gravity is against you, and I've heard it's hard to get the head through when you're on your back. So, when the next contraction came, I did nothing. In fact, I did nothing for the next few contractions. The nurses tried everything, including bringing in a mirror so I could see the baby's head -- thinking that would entice me to push. Nope. One of the nurses had this idea of a kind of tug-o-war with a towel, which did get me to push. However, the pain was so intense, I let go of the towel. I didn't want to do that again.

My doctor arrived sometime in all of this, wearing an angry bunny tee shirt. I love my doctor. She was pretty calm, even though time was ticking on and the chances of them having to do some intervention to get the baby out were increasing.

At some point, I suggested laying on my side. That seemed to work much better. That, and the fact that my new nurse was a super-nanny type with a british accent who told me that I had to hold my breath and push to the count of ten. When I stopped pushing before then, she'd yell "I didn't get to ten! Let's do it again!"

Nesting, and other random thoughts.

I've been reading in every book, website, billboard, etc. that I should have the nesting instinct by now -- the urge to clean the house to get ready for the baby. Apparently, I'm not going to be a good mom because the only instinct I have is to sleep. I definately have a desire to have a clean house -- I look at the cat hair collecting on the rug in the living room and I think "that really needs to be vacuumed." I don't, however, actually get the vacuum out and use it. Instead, I change the channel on the tv and eat another handful of popcorn. Oh, and that's another thing that seems to be collecting on the living room rug...

My friend Janet had her baby the other day. He was 9 pounds, 6 ounces. That's one big baby.

This Friday is my last doctor's appointment before I start going every week. That's a little exciting. We're also going to the labor & delivery class this weekend. We're doing the intensive weekend seminar rather than the boring once a week for 6 weeks classes. We went to a breastfeeding class earlier this month where I learned that the only way to really learn how to breastfeed is by breastfeeding -- kinda like backpacking a long distance trail.

The cats are getting needier as the due date approaches. I think they can sense their impending doom -- they will no longer be #1 in the household. It's so sad for them.

I have a lot of pictures on my camera -- mostly from my baby shower. Some day I'll get those off and post them. I got lots of cool and cute gifts from my friends, and next Friday, my work friends are throwing me a shower, too!

Pregnancy Dream -- Finally!

Throughout this entire pregnancy, I have not had one single pregnancy or baby dream. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Until last night.

And then it wasn't even a good pregnancy dream. I dreamt that my water broke while I was sleeping, but I wasn't in labor and the doctor told me that I'd just peed myself. I kept telling her "No! I didn't pee myself. My water broke and the baby is coming!"

"The baby isn't coming because it's not time for the baby to come," was her reply.

I wasn't having contractions or pain. I was just very wet, as was my bed. It was a bizarre dream.

That's all I remember. I don't know how (or if) it ended. I probably just woke up to pee. Luckily, I didn't pee myself last night, because that would have been awful.

Nesting

I've been trying to find a mattress for the cradle, and I finally decided to make one myself. I figured if I bought enough vinyl, I could screw up a couple times and it would still cost 1/4 of the price of a special order mattress.

I purchased a roll of NU-Foam, which is a safer alternative to foam. It's basically a very dense polyester batting, so it doesn't give off all those toxic fumes that typical baby mattresses and foam give off. It was 24 inches wide, so I cut a piece to length and folded it in half. It fit perfectly in the cradle.

Next, I found a pattern on the internet for a rectangular cushion bed (basically a dog bed with a foam pad), and followed the directions (thinking that I would have to do this about three times since I've never followed a sewing pattern before).

I cut the pieces to size....

...and pinned it all together...

I did some fancy stitching on the back side where I would be inserting the foam.

And then I sewed it up and turned it right-side out!

Who knew -- the measurements worked out and the foam insert fit perfectly!

And now I have a mattress for the cradle!

I totally rock! Next, I'm going to make a co-sleeper pad for our bed, in case the Belchigator has a diaper catastrophe while she's in bed with us. And then maybe a portable changing pad...

3 Months and Counting...

I've hit the 3 month mark. Three more months until my due date. I'm entering into the home stretch -- the third trimester. It's a little daunting.

The Belchigator was up all day yesterday, beginning at 4am. I must've slept a total of 30 minutes between 4 & 6. For the rest of the day, she did back flips, summersaults and high kicks. She must have known it was my birthday.

Paul bought me bling yesterday. I'm not a jewelery person. The most expensive piece I own is my wedding band, and it's about 1/10 the price of most people's engagement rings. When he said he wanted to get me jewelery, I was expecting to go to the Made in Oregon store and pick out a couple necklaces and earrings from the local artists... totalling about $35. Instead, we went to the Hawaiian jewelery store where I fell in love with a turtle pendant with a beautiful firey green opal in it. The price tag -- $839. That's more than our mortgage payment. I nearly shit myself and wanted to run screaming from the store. We finally settled on a plumeria pendant with a small diamond in the middle for a much more reasonable price. The five petals of the plumeria symbolize sincerity, faith, devotion, aspiration and surrender. We liked that.

Belly Shots

Today was my friend, Janet's baby shower. As we were leaving, we took pregnant belly shots. She's due mid-September and is about 30 weeks along, and I'm about 24 weeks.

Cool Stuff

My in-laws came to visit a couple weeks ago. They brought us this --

This cradle was made for my brother-in-law, about 23 years ago. It's been in storage, collecting dust, waiting for a grandchild... And now that there is one on the way, it's been refinished and refurbished for the Belchigator. Unfortunately, the mattress size needed for this cradle is smaller than the ones on the market today. Luckily I found some places that will make mattresses to order.

I've been busy knitting myself. I've made a couple hats, 1/2 a pair of gloves (I'm working on the second), and these cute overalls:

How it all began

Paul I think it's a hoot that the Belchigator was conceived on or around Valentine's Day. Paul thinks it's all because of this:

The cat posed with the flowers to give a perspective on the size of the bouquet.

Personally, I think the Belchigator was conceived a couple days before I received the flowers, but it's much more fun to say they were the impetus.

Amnio Results & 2nd Ultrasound (AKA 4th Month Freak-Out)

I have been a bad, bad blogger. I had every intention of logging every feeling, every crazy dream, every kick from this baby... and here it is, a month later, and I'm finally posting something. I think it was mainly because of work. When I was so sick for the first trimester, I got pretty far behind, so I had to put in extra time to catch up before school let out last week. Now that I'm out for the summer, I have time to sit and reflect... and complain about the baby jumping on my bladder...

We got the amnio results back a couple weeks ago. Everything looks good, and it's been confirmed that the Belchigator is a girl. Currently the name that is the front runner is Emily Rose. I was excited for about 2 days after the amnio results came back. I was even ready to walk into that God-forsaken store called "Babies R Us" when reality set in and I had a minor freak out. Suddenly, I didn't want to have a baby. I wanted to go travel in Europe. I wanted to hike the CDT. I wanted to live alone with my husband and no other responsibilities. I seriously was not excited about having a baby.

And then I had a fat freak-out. I dreamt that I grew udders and that my husband left me for skinnier women. I cried whenever I had a late-night food craving, and whenever I got on the scale. I told everyone who rubbed my belly or told me that I was beginning to look pregnant that it was just fat.

I finally confided in Paul over the weekend. He couldn't understand why I didn't tell him sooner. Well duh, wasn't I the one who insisted that I get pregnant before I turned 35? And so I had another freak out that I forced him into it.

But now I'm all better. I actually like my kid now (though I can do without the fact that I have to pee every 3.7 minutes because my bladder is her trampoline). We're going to the coast today (just me & her) to spend some quality time in a yurt, reading, knitting, letterboxing, listening to my I-Pod, hiking, basking in the sun, etc. It should be fun. I should probably start packing.

We had our second ultrasound yesterday. It was much granier than the first, and the kid was not cooperative. She kept moving around and covering her face with her hands so we couldn't get good profile or face shots. She's a little big for her age (the ultrasound tech says about 3 days bigger) and she weighs 14 ounces. I guess the other 9 pounds I've gained are in my boobs...


Here are the pictures.

Waving "Hi!"

A foot

Her bum

Facing down

Facing up -- hands covering her face so you can't get a good profile.

Ultrasound & Amnio

Today was our Amnio day. I was terrified -- mostly of the needle. For some reason I've felt good about this pregnancy, even though I'm surrounded by children with various birth defects and issues at work. We got tons of pictures from the ultrasound, and the amnio went smoothly. The biggest concern in amnios is that the baby will be curious and swim over to the needle to check it out, which makes it take longer. That sucks, because through the entire procedure, the uterus is contracting like crazy to get the foreign object the fuck out of there. Once the needle was out, it took about 30 seconds for the uterus to calm down, and then I got a shot of rhogam in my hip since I'm O-. That wasn't as bad as I was expecting, either, and the nice thing is that I've been ordered to be a princess for two whole days! Sweet!




Here are pics of the baby from the ultrasound:

Happy profile view...

The picture of the face looks a little devilish. It's definately our spawn!

This is a blurry shot of a foot. The baby was moving around a lot!

I call this one "Free Darfur!" It's the angry fist.

Thru-Pregnancy

I had a bit of an epiphany the other day on my way to work. Being pregnant is a lot like a thru-hike. In the beginning, you're just getting used to everything -- you're tired, worn out, fall asleep before the sun sets... Then once you get your "trail legs" and start feeling good, you have lots of energy and can start to see the end of the hike. You look forward to the day you finish your hike -- you look forward to the baby and begin to visualize him or her. And as you get through the third trimester, getting closer and closer to labor, you begin to get trail weary, yet a little scared. You are done and ready to get on with your life, yet you've had such a fun time, you're not quite sure you want this part to end. Coming to the end of this journey means a lot more responsibility, and you're not quite sure you can handle it. Sure, it's something you thought about before starting the journey, but it seemed so far away until just now. Yet, you're ready to be done.

Some days are more challenging than others -- you have to push yourself beyond your limits, and you realize that you're much stronger than you thought. Some days you just feel lazy and want to sit in the sun all day doing absolutely nothing. Some days you just need to get your chores done, and you always have to remember to call your mother. As the time wears on, your dreams about life before the hike begin to fade, and you have vibrant, fun dreams about your journey, and your life afterwards.

Here are some other commonalities between a thru-hike and a pregnancy:

You eat more than you (or anyone else) can imagine -- and when possible, you eat continuously.

You have weird cravings.

You drink water all the time.

Sometimes your back hurts.

Sometimes you feel on top of the world.

Sometimes you just want to lay down and cry in self pity.

You spend a lot of time in front of the mirror checking out your changing body shape.

You weigh yourself whenever you get the chance.

When you walk down the street in town, people notice you, and some ask you questions about your journey.

You periodically get cards and letters from friends asking about your journey.

You keep a journal.

You will do anything for a back rub.

When you sleep on your side, your hips hurt.

You can smell people before you see them.


Once I had this epiphany, I realized that I can do this. I haven't been as excited about being pregnant and having a baby as I thought I would be. I think it's mainly because I've been so sick. But now that I know it's just one foot in front of the other (and repeat), I know I can make it through this bleak, "breaking in" period and I'll be just fine once I have my trail legs. After all, I've done this twice before. This pregnancy is my CDT. Maybe I'll apply for my triple crown certificate once the baby is born...

gDiapers

In an effort to save the world so that my spawn can actually live to his or her life expectancy, I'm planning on using and promoting gDiapers. They are really cool diapers with a reusable, washable outer shell, and flushable, biodegradable insert. In fact, you can even compost them (the wet ones, at least)! Americans throw away 50 million disposable diapers a year -- what a waste! Happy Earth Day, Belchigator! You're going to be a gDiaper baby!

Grapefruit

My uterus is the size of a grapefruit. This is good news. Because I've been so sick, my friends at work have been teasing me that I'm carrying twins. Luckily, at our appointment last night, I was informed that my uterus is the size of a grapefruit, which is a very good indication that I have just one baby in my belly. If I had two, it would be significantly bigger.

We also got the chance to hear the Belchigator's heartbeat. It was pretty cool. It kinda sounded like a choo-choo train (without the choo-chooing, of course). Mostly it was this rhythmic ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch sound. When the midwife first put the doppler on my belly, I heard nothing but static. And then we heard my heartbeat. She said "Can you hear it? There's yours, and then the faster one is the baby's." I simply looked at her like she had three heads and thought 'do I even have a baby in my belly? What's wrong? I can't hear anything!' And then she got good reception and all we heard was the "ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch" of the Belchigator's heartbeat. It was waaaaay cool. She took the doppler off my belly much too soon. I would have been very content to hang out for a few more hours listening. Now I have to wait 4 more weeks. :(

My Tasty Food

I have realized some very important things over the past few weeks. The #1 thing is deciding before I eat, if this food will taste good coming back up. I have learned that the following foods don't taste so good when they're half digested:

1. Bacon
2. Egg Cheese on a bagel
3. Mashed Potatoes
4. Bean Burrito


The following are OK on the way up:

1. Cheerios (quite tasty if you added a banana)
2. Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream
3. Strawberry Milkshake from Burgerville
4. Fruit in general

Needless to say, my food choices these days are pretty limited...

The Cat's Out of the Bag

We were going to wait until the first trimester was over, but we couldn't. I'm sure Paul could have, but he's not the one with the kid growing in his belly. I've wanted to tell people as soon as I peed on the stick.

And now the family knows, and my friends, and most of the hiker community... and in another week I'll be back at work and they'll know. And hopefully my assistant teachers will forgive me for all the times I somehow got out of changing the poopy diaper because it was going to make me barf. Hopefully...

This morning, Paul & I talked about the Belchigator's personality. We both agreed that the Belchigator will be a pain in the ass smart ass like us (whether it's genetic or learned, we'll probably never know). I said "smart, caring, & considerate." Paul said "evil."

"Why evil?" I asked.

"Because it has to be that way," he replied. He's very eastern in his thoughts sometimes. There has to be balance.

"Well-behaved," I suggested. And then uproarious laughter from my husband. For two minutes. He lauged so hard, he cried.

"Well, maybe for everyone else, but not for us," he managed to squeeze out between guffaws.

"I can live with that."

What I can't live with is the idea that the Belchigator might have Paul's toes. That would be a travesty.

First Prenatal Visit

My first prenatal visit was Monday. It went well. We had the official pee test, so Paul was finally able to accept the fact that he really did knock me up.

The midwife is really cool. She is glad that I'm in yoga class, and will let me ride my bike until I begin to lose my center of balance as the belly grows. That's a bit of a bummer, since that will happen just as it's warm, dry and light enough to ride every day. While that is sad news, she did tell me that I can still backpack the Oregon Coast Trail in June. She gave me a few suggestions for gear and nutrition and said we can discuss that more as the hike approaches. I doubt that I will hike the entire trail, as I'll be 4 months pregnant, but I think I'll be able to manage a rather large chunk. If I can talk Teatree into joining me, it really won't matter how far we travel, because we'll be having a hell of a time.

Tuesday is my first OB exam. It's also the day we discuss genetic history and testing. Paul and I have already decided that we're going to test for everything. Since I'll be 35 when the baby is born, I can have an amnio done and get it paid for by insurance. I guess that's one positive for having a "geriatric pregnancy." Of course I'm terrified of the potential results. I don't know how I would handle bad news. I think I would handle it better before the birth than after, but still... I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that everything is developing and will continue to develop perfectly.

I've finally begun the nausia phase. I don't like it. I haven't barfed yet, but sometimes I think that if I could barf, I would feel much better. I've gagged a few times: brushing my teeth, eating, trying to choke down the prenatals... but no actual vomiting. I want this phase to finish quickly. I want it to finish right now. Nope, still have nausia. Dammit.

On the plus side, I've not yet experienced constipation. I think that I'll be one hell of a good time when that hits.

Doctor Appointment Set

I set my first Prenatal appointment. It's Monday evening at 6:30. I'm going to a midwife (which I'm sure my mom will not be happy with). Her name is Molly and she started her midwifery career in a small village in Alaska. I think that's a good omen, since Paul is from a small village in Alaska.

I'm still a little freaked out about all this. Paul & I have decided not to tell anybody until the end of the first trimester. I've already told the doctor, the dentist and my yoga teacher. The dental hygenists were so nice. They gave me a special toothbrush for the Belchigator.

I found a 3-D pregnancy tracker online. I added it to my blog. Apparently the Belchigator is the size of a grain of rice. He/She feels more like a giant gas bubble. Luckily, I've not felt much nausia. Mostly the nausia comes when I have to choke down the giant horse-pill prenatal vitamins. Other than that, and the fact that my boobs ache constantly, things feel good.

I'm going to try to get myself to the prenatal yoga class on Saturday. It's at noon, which is a hard time for a Saturday, but I think it will be nice, especially since I'll finally be pregnant. I went for a couple months when we started trying, but gave up when I decided that I couldn't get pregnant.

Paul just popped some popcorn. I must gorge.

The Test

For the past six months, Paul & I have been trying to get pregnant. I was almost convinced that I was impregnable (is that even a word?). However, this month I decided to practice positive thinking. I even subscribed to the 3-D pregnancy page, so I could watch what happened as the Belchigator was conceived.

Around Thursday of last week I had a sneaking suspicion, but I've had a sneaking suspicion every month, so I couldn't be certain.

My period was due yesterday, and it usually early rather than late. I had nothing - no spotting, no PMS... and my boobs, rather, my nipples, hurt so bad, I thought I might cry. So after my friend poured me that second glass of wine last night, I thought "I think I should probably pee on a stick..."

Which I did at 5:30 this morning, as my bladder was so full because I drank about two gallons of water last night to dilute the 6 ounces of wine.

I have never seen a pregnancy test react so quickly. It was almost instantaneous, and had I not been peeing already, I would have pissed myself. I was so excited, I brought the test into the bedroom, dripping with pregnancy hormone laden pee into the bedroom, woke up my husband and said "Baby, you're a champ!"

I hadn't thought much on how I was going to break the news to my husband. I had already convinced myself that I wasn't going to get pregnant and earlier this month, found myself paging through the DHS foster parent newsletter searching for future kin. So it wasn't fun and romantic, with a little bow tied around the pee stick stuck in a baby bottle. Come to think of it, I'm glad I did it my way, the other way is a little disturbing to me.

While I was excited and happy, I was still a little freaked out. I suddenly realized that I have to get my shit together -- and quick! Our second bedroom is a mess. I will never get it organized after the baby arrives. I have lots of projects to finish, I have a sweater to knit, soap to make, and a garden to create and tend... and then there's my hike of the Oregon Coast in June. I might not be able to hike the entire thing. Oh well, I guess those are the compromises you make for your children. The Belchigator owes me already and he or she is barely the size of a grain of rice.

I've been officially pregnant for 15 hours. My legs are still a little shaky, and I'm pretty excited and happy and giddy. But I just can't stop thinking about labor & delivery. I am freaked out about that. The barfing, swollen legs, random strangers rubbing my belly, the screaming kid, possible bad grades, teenage rebellion, dropping out of college doesn't really scare me. It's labor & delivery. FUCK.

Well, that and swallowing down the nasty giant horse-sized prenatal vitamins that my naturopath gave me six months ago...

Tomorrow I make my appointment for my first exam. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do, or who I'm supposed to call. I'm going to make an appointment with a midwife that has an office in the same area as my naturopath. At least, that's who I'm going to call, and I'm going to ask the people over there what I'm supposed to do, because even though I've been working toward this goal for six months, I have no freaking idea what I'm doing, or what I'm supposed to do. This will certainly be an exciting adventure.